


It's the Thought That Counts

by Uakari



Category: Nabari no Ou
Genre: Handcuffs, Humor, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 18:36:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uakari/pseuds/Uakari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuzzy pink handcuffs are not part of a samurai's normal arsenal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's the Thought That Counts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FarenMaddox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarenMaddox/gifts).



> What am I doing with my life?

“Are you drunk, senpai?”

“Nah,” Yukimi slurs and leans provocatively onto the table, “Okay, yeah. But you can’t even pretend this gift doesn’t just scream… _’Raikou!’_ ” He pauses to laugh loudly to himself and snatches the handcuffs – complete with fuzzy pink trim – from the pile of shredded paper sitting next to Raikou’s plate. “Happy birthday, you sadist.”

Raikou has the decency to not fly over the table and throttle Yukimi for the fuzzy pink abominations twirling around his fingers. He also has the decency to look amused (or _be_ mused…either way, it’s more of a grin than a scowl he’s wearing, much to everyone else’s horror) at Yukimi’s antics – maybe because they’ve finally reached that point in their acquaintance where this sort of thing is funny, or very possibly because he’s had nearly an equal amount of beer.

Gau has neither of these, and it’s only the presence of Miharu and Raimei on either side of him (the latter of whom has locked his wrists in place with a death-grip) that keeps him from not only flying across the table, but smacking that stupid, smug smile right off his stupid chicken head. They’ve neglected to pin his mouth shut, however, so he’s doing his best to rain down a torrent of verbal abuse to make up for the lack of pounding. “Is there anything in the world less appropriate than this?” he screams, “What the hell possessed you to buy something like that? Do you realize what you’re implying? Do you even know what people use these for?”

“Calm down, you stupid tenpa,” Yukimi waves this away far too casually, “Or you’re not gonna get any birthday spankings.”

“It’s not my birthday you damned chicken head!” How is Raimei so much stronger than him? He’d curse himself for his lack of physical prowess if he weren’t devoting every ounce of his concentration to slipping her grip and inflicting massive bodily harm on the idiot across the table. “Why would you-”

“Did Raikou get a job with the police?” Miharu asks suddenly. His eyes are bright and shining and absolutely full to the brim with gleeful malevolence. “I didn’t know officers were allowed to have fancy cuffs. Are they regulation?”

“Um, Miharu…” Raimei starts.

“Do you think he’ll arrest me?”

“Ahhh!” Gau finally twists free of Raimei’s grip and lurches forward, “Do you see what you’ve done? Do you see the kind of weird ideas you’re putting out in front of children? Do you mwwrafryIIIIING?!” The last bit of his wailing is drown in the crook of Raikou’s arm as it slips easily over his face and pulls him into a headlock. He squirms and kicks, but there is no way he’s getting out of this one-

“Oh for-” Kazuho scoffs loudly as she backs through the door with an enormous cake in tow, “You promised.”

“I promised nothin’,” Yukimi grins, “It’s fine, Kazuho. Guy stuff, you know.”

She sets the cake on the table and shoots her brother a withering glare. “Which is why Gau is so thrilled, I’m sure.”

“Oh, he’s fine,” Yukimi drawls. Gau feels Raikou’s arm tighten around his face before he can dignify this with a kick to the head. “He’s just noisy.”

“I am so sorry, Raikou,” Kazuho sighs, completely ignoring her brother’s protests, “He’s been working so hard lately – I’m sure he just needs a break to goof around.” She holds her hand out with an almost god-like patience. “Do you want me to get rid of those for you?”

Finally! A sane and rational adult! Gau breathes a sigh of relief (as best he can around the heavy knit fabric) and relaxes-

“No, that’s alright,” Raikou says and releases Gau, who has now frozen in place, “He picked them out himself, so it’s a thoughtful gift.” He reaches across the table to slip his fingers through one of the cuffs and dangle it in front of his face. “Besides, I really like the color.”

* * *

Gau is mostly settled by the time he, Raikou, and Raimei start the long walk back to their apartment, and he’s breathing quite normally by the time he locks the door behind them. He’s calm as Raimei skips off to bed and Raikou to the bath, and he’s damned near giddy as he unloads the bag of presents and left over cake they’ve carried home. 

Of course the handcuffs are prominently displayed at the top of the pile.

He twitches slightly as he pulls them out to get at the cake. He dangles them in front of his face for a long moment, a million and one inappropriate thoughts chorusing through his mind. They weren’t so bad, here, all on their own. Without that stupid chicken head and his stupid grin. They might even be fun if-

Fun if-

He isn’t going to finish that thought, because he is so much better than that disgusting pervert and even if it would be fun, he’d never be able to live down the shame if any of them ever found out. He huffs out an angry snarl and drops them onto the counter. There’s cake that needs putting away.

He’s still rifling around their tiny refrigerator a few minutes later, playing a losing game of tetris to fit the leftovers in amongst the half-full take-out boxes and juice containers, when a hand grips his shoulder and nearly sends him jumping out of his skin.

“Gau,” Raikou breathes into his ear, “Have you been playing with my toys?”

“What?” he shoves the cake in top of the containers and spins to slam the door behind him, “Of course not! I put them over there on the count-”

Raikou has already found them, he realizes. He’s twirling them about his index finger with a mischievous grin plastered across his face and looking faintly pleased with himself. The fact that he’s wearing only the lower half of silk pajamas that leave nothing to the imagination does not improve this image. Gau exhales deeply and ducks around his side and away from the refrigerator. “I thought you were in the bath?”

“It’s late,” Raikou shrugs and squeezes some of the water from his hair, “Didn’t want to take up too much time, so I showered.”

“That’s silly. You’ve got plenty of-” Raikou stares intently at the cuffs as they swing an arc around his finger. “Oh.” Gau gulps – probably audibly, definitely embarrassingly. “You want to…?”

“We don’t have to,” Raikou laughs and pets him on the head, “Just thought it might be…interesting.”

“Yeah…” Gau can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and other places where it doesn’t belong just at the moment. This is all so horribly… _something_. He’ll come up with a suitable derogatory description later. When his brain is working. And Raikou isn’t staring at him with that look in his eye. “That could be-”

“Hmm?” 

“I’ll just wash up first,” he says quickly and darts off to the bathroom.

* * *

His shower is longer and hotter than strictly necessary, and it’s very possible that he’s shampooed his hair at least three times. He’s definitely wrung out his washcloth an unnecessary number of times, though that’s more a reflex than anything else. It’s just nerves, he convinces himself, and slicks another handful of shampoo through his hair.

He’s never been…tied up before. He’s never done anything even remotely naughty, really. Maybe the occasional spanking. And some biting. And that one time he left an enormous love bite on Raikou’s shoulder and then Raimei found it the next morning and decided to hide her curling iron permanently…

_The point is._ (There is a point, isn’t there?) He’s embarking on a course that he’s only familiar with via the occasional dirty website and there is a very high probability that he’s going to _do. it. wrong._ and embarrass himself. Which is utterly ridiculous, because how wrong could you go when you’re chained to a bed? 

Probably not very wrong, right?

This isn’t much of a consolation, but it’s enough to coax him into turning the water off and stepping back out into the real world. He towels off quickly and tugs on pajamas (just in case Raimei is up and in search of a snack) before tiptoeing down the hall to where Raikou has left the bedroom door cracked open ever so slightly.

He’s left the lights on (as he usually does), which is a good thing because he’s also left his towel and laundry strewn across the floor (also as he usually does). It takes everything he has for Gau to suppress the urge to grumble and pick them all up and instead simply kicks them toward the wall and out of his way. He tosses his own laundry in the hamper and shuffles around the foot of the bed – a massive, hulking monstrosity that cost far too much money and is far more ornate than any bed _ought_ to be – and stops dead in his tracks.

_Well, that certainly is a novel use for the scrawling brass headboard._

He stops gawping only once he realizes Raikou is laughing at him. Which isn’t fair, since Gau is not the one handcuffed to the headboard. Nor is he the one with his feet tangled in lime green silk scarves (no doubt painstakingly chosen to offset the dark plum of his pajamas) and fastened to the footboard. Nor is he the one with a big, stupid grin on his face-

Okay, he might be that.

“What’s the matter, Gau?” Raikou asks as he scoots onto the mattress, “Did you want to do this the other way?”

“No,” Gau says, a little bit too quickly, “This is perfect. You’re-” _Oh fuck it._ He crawls up and over Raikou, planting one knee on either side of his hips, and leans in to kiss him. It feels as if it’s been a million years since he’s been able to do this (it’s been five hours), and he dives in eagerly, sucking at Raikou’s lips and drinking in the throaty gurgle of surprise that breaks between them.

“Calm down a bit,” Raikou breaths, “You’re going to be done in no time if you ravage me like that.”

“I’m better than that,” Gau insists, but changes his approach to gentle kisses along his jaw line anyway. He reaches Raikou’s ear and breathes hotly against it before nipping at the lobe. “What do you want to do?”

Raikou cranes his neck awkwardly to meet his gaze. “Whatever you want.” His eyes close and he stretches forward to kiss Gau, sweet and slow and maddeningly measured.

Gau pulls away slowly, unsatisfied with this answer. “But it’s your birthday,” he whispers, staring intently at Raikou’s lips, “Tell me and I’ll-”

“I want you,” Raikou mumbles, breaking up his words with short smacks against Gau’s lips, “To read me shoujo manga and give me sips of cool water.”

“What, really?”

“Well, I can’t do it myself.”

Gau stares at him for a moment, trying to decide if maybe he really should go get a glass of water (he has been lying here for at least half an hour while Gau was taking his sweet time with the shampoo), but decides the better option is just to shut him up altogether by shoving his tongue into his mouth. It’s a bit awkward – usually he’s on the receiving end of this – but it takes only a few seconds to work out a slow twist and turn, back and forth, that has Raikou craning his neck forward for more. He runs his fingers into the roots of Raikou’s still damp hair, pushing it back from his face and off of his neck, and grinds down into his lap. He can’t help but smirk when a throaty groan teases its way out between their mouths.

He let’s go of Raikou’s hair and moves down to the neck he’s just exposed, nipping and smothering the sting with his lips as he goes. He can hear the handcuffs rattle against the headboard as he kisses way over Raikou’s Adam’s apple and into the sweet spot in the hollow of his throat and wonders if the restraints are doing anything for him. They’re sure as hell making _him_ feel ten times more exposed than usual, without any sort of hands to guide him or reassure him that he’s at least heading in the right direction. He’s left with only quiet breathing and the occasional shudder to read and that’s far more intimidating than it ought to be. 

Still, the sudden twitch in Raikou’s belly is encouraging, and he grins maniacally as hips lift to grind up against him. He moves back to Raikou’s mouth, kissing him deeply as he rocks his hips tentatively forward again. This elicits the correct response, both in the jerking of Raikou’s hips against him and the hot flash of electricity up his own abdomen. He moves slowly, deliberately, relishing the sensation of moving together until he hears the clatter of the handcuffs again and knows those hands would gladly be egging him on if only they were allowed. He breaks away, grinning, and leans back as far as he can manage while keeping Raikou’s button row within reach. This, at least, he has no compunctions about – Raikou loves being undressed nearly as much as he enjoys dressing up and has made no secret about it.

The buttons slip through their eyelets one by one, the heavy purple silk falling to each side as they part. Gau’s free hand follows the trail of parted fabric, smoothing it off to the sides, pushing it up and off his shoulders-

“Um,” Gau pauses as the obvious problem presents itself, “I don’t think this is coming off…”

The handcuffs rattle again as Raikou realizes the folly of leaving his pajamas on while shackling himself to the headboard. “Leave it,” he decides quickly and jerks his hips upward to spur Gau back to action.

Gau leans forward again to bury his chuckling into the skin of Raikou’s chest, feeling an enormous sense of relief that he isn’t the only one who doesn’t have a clue what they’re doing. He’s doing a piss poor job of hiding his amusement, but an excellent job of making Raikou jump and twitch as his laughter flits over sensitive skin. He keeps it up as he moves lower, finally giving up any pretense of holding back and blowing an obnoxious, slurpy raspberry against his belly.

“You little-!” Raikou all but shouts once his muscle stop twitching and his legs cease their kicking. “You’re pure evil!”

Gau attempts to look very innocent. “You told me to do what I wanted.”

“I did,” Raikou pouts, and turns his face dramatically into the pillow, “So I guess I had better accept my fate.”

“Are you-”

“Keep going. Don’t worry about me. You have to make it out of here alive.”

Gau considers smothering him with a pillow – it would serve him right – but settles instead for a mock glare and shuffles down the bed, pulling the waistband of Raikou’s pajamas with him. He makes it just past his knees before he runs into the same problem as with the shirt. He bites his lip to keep from laughing – how can they be so _bad_ at this? – and crawls back up to bury his face in Raikou’s neck. He sucks in harshly and wraps a hand around his cock, pulling and stroking in time with the movements of his mouth until the only nonsense spilling out of Raikou’s mouth is a pleased hum.

Satisfied, and goaded on by the hot breath rasping across the top of his head, he releases his grip and pushes up onto an elbow. He attacks Raikou’s mouth again, swallowing down the disappointed whimper that slips out as he hefts both knees up and inward to press against the inside of Raikou’s thighs. He lingers a moment longer, tracing a finger along the junction of hip and thigh, until he’s gasping for breath. Raikou’s lips follow him upward as he pulls away, but he evades them with a smirk and settles back onto his haunches.

He not sure if he ought to admit it out loud, but he’s really enjoying this.

Raikou stares at him expectantly as his hands skim over the skin of his torso, coming to rest at either side of his hips. Gau dips his head, blowing a slow stream of hot air over Raikou’s erection. His tongue darts out gingerly, swiping a slow circle around the crown and drawing out a gurgle of approval. He closes his lips lightly around the tip and the gurgle becomes a whine. He’s being awful, he knows, teasing like this, but the thrill in his shoulders and up through his belly is exhilarating, and without the threat of a knock to the head, he has little reason to stop. He slides his lips slowly down, now intent on making this as torturous as possible, until his mouth is full and he remembers why he never goes about things this way.

He gulps down the choking sensation and sets himself into a steady rhythm. This is much better – for both of them, apparently. Raikou’s breath comes at a ragged pace and his heels dig into the mattress as Gau moves. He has no idea why he’s never paid attention to these before (well, that’s not entirely true – Raikou is very distracting), but he certainly will from now on. He misses the tugging at his hair to goad him on, but the high pitched keening that comes as he wraps his fingers tightly around the base of the shaft and _squeezes_ more than makes up for that. He catches the tell-tale skip in Raikou’s breath that is usually accompanied by a particularly violent tug at his hair and takes in as much of him as he can. He’s never done this part before, either, and the bitter taste at the back of his throat is something of a shock, but he swallows it down without too much difficulty.

The _noise_ Raikou makes is glorious. Somewhere between a moan and a death rattle, it seems to shake every last bit of breath from his lungs. Gau is proud enough to not give a second thought to what the neighbors might think. He waits a moment as Raikou catches his breath before crawling back up his torso to plant a small kiss at the tip of his nose.

“Hi,” he smiles.

“Hi yourself,” Raikous head tips over to the side, “That was…good. Toes tingly.”

He makes a sort of strange, strangled giggling noise, and Gau immediately wonders if the ties around his legs have trapped too much blood there. He’d kicked awful violently earlier – there was a definite possibility that the knots had pulled tight and-

Panicked, he scrambles back to the end of the bed and tugs at the scarves. The knots are definitely tight – he can barely trace the crevices with his fingers – but Raikou seems more perturbed by the loss of contact than the possibility that his brain might be deprived of oxygen because they’re idiots who can’t even manage bondage properly.

“What are you doing?” he mumbles from the head of the bed, “Come back.”

“No,” Gau insists, and fumbles around beneath the edge of the mattress. There has to be a shuriken hidden here somewhere. For crying out loud, they’re jammed into every other nook and cranny of the apartment – _why isn’t there one where he needs it the most?_ “I have to get these off of you! They’re cutting off your blood supply-”

“Hey-”

“The blood isn’t getting to your brain-”

“Gau.”

There are warm arms wrapping around him, dragging him back upright and locking tight. He freezes for a moment before realizing that it’s pink hair tickling his nose and Raikou’s chest he’s suffocating against. “How-”

“Magic,” Raikou assures him, and relaxes one arm to pick the knots free. Within seconds he’s shirking his pajama bottoms the rest of the way off and rotating his newly freed ankles. “Much better.” He plants a kiss against Gau’s forehead and collapses backward onto the mattress, dragging them both back up toward the pillows. His fingers sneak up beneath the hem of Gau’s shirt. “Why are you still dressed?”

“I was busy,” Gau mumbles into the pillow. He considers wrestling himself out of his pajamas, but he’s warm and content with Raikou wrapped around him this way and not at all sure he can maneuver back into this exact same position.

“It’s a serious oversight,” Raikou breaths into his hair. He yawns loudly and nuzzles closer. “You’re going to have to pay for it in the morning.”

“Mmm,” is all Gau can manage. The yawning is contagious, and with it, he can feel himself slipping into a comfortable, sleepy daze. Raikou chuckles, and Gau can’t help but think it sounds like the devil himself. He shudders and buries his face deeper into the pillow.

If he wakes in the morning to find himself handcuffed to the bed, he is going to personally eviscerate Yukimi. Either way, the chicken head is getting a nice punch in the face the next time they meet.

Just on principle.


End file.
